Radio mirror (Nov 1935-Apr 1936)

I DON AMECHE'S ROMANCE WHEN Don Ameche was fifteen, he met a girl. That wasn't unusual. He was a handsome boy, with serious dark eyes and a charming diffidence; he was always meeting girls, and getting over it. It was usually the girls who didn't get over it. But this was different. It was while Don — he was Dominick Felix Ameche then — was attending prep school at Columbia Academy, in Dubuque, Iowa. He had plenty of serious ideas in those days, but not about girls. So when a kindly priest, an instructor at the Academy, introduced him to a pretty blonde, Don didn't realize that this was something he would never get over. He didn't know then that one day he and this same girl would stand before the same priest and make a lot of serious promises. To him, she was just a girl to be polite to, a girl named Honore Prendergast. So he smiled, gallantly and devastatingly, although he was too young then to realize what that smile of his could get him into. And then he promptly forgot the girl. That's what he thought. Half of his mind did forget her, the half that was busy with the natural interests of any fifteen-year-old boy: sailing, swimming, sport in any form, and last but not least, his career. It was not a stage career, the one he dreamed of then, but a legal one. Whenever he saw a movie with a courtroom scene in it, it was he who pleaded with a hardfaced jury. It was he. Dominick Feiix Ameche, who de livered a fiery oration to save a human life. He knew that some day he would be a great, a well-known lawyer. Which only goes to show how wrong people can be about themselves. With the other half of his mind Don never forgot the tall, graceful girl with soft yellow curls about her shy, sweet face. There was nothing about her which did not register itself upon his subconscious mind. Even her name was like that of a makebelieve princess. Honore. It was musical, legendary and different But young men with legal careers to conquer have no time to dream of make-believe princesses. They must devote their thoughts to briefing cases and digesting heavy law tomes. Don saw Honore several times, he doesn't remember how often. Twice, maybe, on regular dates, but they weren't sweethearts. They were both too busy with school activities. For Honore also had chosen a career. She was intensely interested in anything related to medicine, or nursing, but specifically in the study of dietetics. When Don graduated from prep school into Columbia College at Dubuque, he was well versed in the intricacies of Blackstone and other legal authorities. Honore Prendergast? Yes, he knew her, but she was just one of the girls. When he left Columbia to transfer to Marquette University, Don hoped he'd see her again. She said the same to him; she was also leaving Dubuque, to enter Michael Roese Hospital in Chicago as a dietician. Several years flew by, and Don did a little flying about on his own accord, attending Georgetown University for one year and finally landing on the gay University of Wisconsin campus at Madison. By this time he was beginning to wonder vaguely whether a sedate law office was his niche in the scheme of things. He had got over his boyish diffidence and attained poise; he was a good mixer. Friends began to tell him he ought to cash in on his flashing smile and genial personality. He laughed, but just for fun he decided to try out for campus dramatics. At least it might prove a welcome change from the dryness of the law library. And it might also lead to a quicker way of making a living. A law course is a lengthy (Continued on page 72) HE WAS ALWAYS MEETING GIRLS AND GETTING OVER THEM— BUT CAME A TIME WHEN DON FORGOT TO FORGET By CAROLYN SOMERS HOYT Left, Don and Honore Ameche. He has a rival for her affections — Dominick Felix Ameche, Jr., in circle. For Grand Hotel and First Nighter, sponsored by Campana and starring Don Ameche, see page 54, six and ten o'clock columns. 23